


Uncle Olwen and Mr. Barnes

by FromAnonymousToZ



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: But I'm damn well gonna try, Era typical homophobia, Homophobia, How Wirt figures out his uncle is gay, Human AU, I dont really know how to write him as human, I'm going for homophobia is prevelant but it's not against the law, It's kind of vauge enough that they could still be monsters, M/M, The Beast is Uncle Olwen if you're having difficulty picking up on that, The time frame for this is ambiguious, but i dont play with any monster elements, maybe? - Freeform, nothing explicit though, or - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:55:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22534336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromAnonymousToZ/pseuds/FromAnonymousToZ
Summary: Wirt was not exactly sure how Uncle Olwen was related to the family.The man was wiry and thin like Wirt, though his uncle was taller than him by nearly a foot, but he had Greg’s side of the family’s horrific eyesight with glasses so thick you usually couldn't see his eyes behind him. Only the light reflecting off the glasses as two pale moons.Wirt thought he had his uncle figured out.That was until Mr. Barnes came.
Relationships: Enoch Barnes/Olwen Frost, The Beast/Enoch (Over the Garden Wall)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Uncle Olwen and Mr. Barnes

Wirt was not exactly sure how Uncle Olwen was related to the family. 

The man was wiry and thin like Wirt, though his uncle was taller than him by nearly a foot, but he had Greg’s side of the family’s horrific eyesight with glasses so thick you usually couldn't see his eyes behind him. Only the light reflecting off the glasses as two pale moons. Wirt could never quite remember if his uncle had taken care of him before Greg and his step father were in the picture but he believed he had vague memories of his Uncle smiling down at him when he was no higher than a grasshopper’s knee.

His uncle was an odd man. His hair was somewhere between black as a winter evening and white as the crisp snow, giving him a distinct learned grey. His eyes, when not behind the glasses blazed silver and sharp. He had an odd sense of humor and was generally a reserved and poised man. Always silent and ever pensive, waiting like a viper to strike at any moment. 

A solemn statue of a man rather than a human. Uncle Olwen always walked as if he bore a great weight upon his shoulders, as if a crown of lead had been placed upon his brow, but despite this, he moved with swift and silent feet. 

But for all his silence there was something that glimmered within him that sparked of something more than a simply quiet man. 

The man could sing down the moon with a voice like his and he used it often, singing and humming to himself, crooning out a toon in his kitchen. And there were times while he was singing that he would sweep the little Greg to his feet and twirl him in a lively dance or would pull Wirt into a waltz. And when Uncle Olwen spoke you hung on to every word, his stories were funny and captured you within them, his words held weight. 

Wirt rather liked his uncle despite his uncle’s odd behaviors here and there. 

He and Greg were sent off to Uncle Olwen’s at least twice a year, sometimes three or four times, sometimes for a few days, sometimes for weeks at a time. 

And he enjoyed those visits to his uncle’s large house, empty save his uncle’s voice which could fill the corridors all on its own.

And then came Mr. Barnes. 

Mr. Barnes was simply there one visit and never went away.

Mr. Barnes was a large man, he was soft enough around the middle for a man of his age but Wirt had seen him lift a coffee table with one hand while looking for where Uncle Olwen had misplaced his glasses. 

It was odd, and Uncle Olwen never explained where Mr. Barnes had come from or why he had come to live with their uncle.

He simply did.

Mr. Barnes was the joyous type that could be mistaken for everybody’s slightly off but ultimately well meaning grandfather. He was loud and boisterous and knew how to make a joke, and unlike their uncle, also knew how to make small talk. 

Mr. Barnes had hair as orange as pumpkin pie and emerald eyes set above a gleaming smile that never seemed to fall. He was taller still than Wirt’s uncle, and broad enough across the shoulders Wirt was shocked he didn't have to twist oddly to get through doors. 

But Mr. Barnes had a voice to rival Uncle Olwen’s. 

It was large and warm and tinged by a southern drawl. 

And it fit right against Uncle Olwen’s voice in their songs. 

Wirt was rather wary of the new addition to his family, but he had warmed up to Mr. Barnes faster than he had warmed up to Greg. 

Mr. Barnes was kind, and quickly enraptured Wirt and Greg both in his boisterous personality to a point they could not imagine Uncle Olwen without Mr. Barnes at his side, towering above their uncle’s elegant form, his broad smile contrasting their uncle’s stern expression.

But for all Greg and Wirt came to love Mr. Barnes, Uncle Olwen loved him more. 

And Mr. Barnes loved him just as much.

Uncle Olwen had a ravenous appetite, to the point Wirt had never seen his uncle sated, always heading back for seconds, and Mr. Barnes, well Mr. Barnes cooked like he was planning to feed an army. Even as their uncle polished of his second plate and then his third, Mr. Barnes would make polite conversation at the dinner table with Wirt and Greg, entertaining whatever nonsense spilled out of Greg’s mouth and considering every word Writ said with the same rapt attention, never seeming to eat from his own plate but always with an empty plate at the end of the meal. 

Uncle Olwen could never sleep at night. Wirt’s mom used to say that she was sure that their uncle would go up to the roof tops at night for hours in the evenings just to try to sleep. Wirt, struggling with his own demons manifesting as insomnia, would often come down the stairs only to find his uncle, head in the lap of Mr. Barnes who sat with a single light on, a paperback in one hand, his other hand gently running through his uncle’s hair. 

Uncle Olwen’s songs were always meant to be accompanied by someone who had a voice to rival his own. When the first notes of one of Uncle Olwen’s song drifted up the stairs and down the halls, to call Wirt and Greg down for breakfast, it was quickly accompanied by a voice like autumn wind, blurring into a duet, coaxing them both down the stairs. 

And then one evening Wirt finds them dancing in the kitchen. 

A large hand, encompasses and dwarfs his uncle’s dainty hand. The other hand rests upon his uncle’s bony hip, as his uncle’s other hand rests on Mr. Barnes’ shoulder. The swirl, Uncle Olwen humming a low somber tune, Mr. Barnes twirling and leading them in slow arcing circles. 

Pale eyes behind panes of solid glass gaze into eyes that glimmer like summer fields. Mr. Barnes joins the humming with a tune of his own and soon he’s speeding them up both in the beat of music and in their twirling whirling steps. 

Soon a lively tune is spilling from both their lips as they whirl about the kitchen moving as one, whirling and spinning and breaking and reuniting. And when at last they come to a stop, both out of breath Mr. Barnes spins Uncle Olwen against his chest and then they are looking at each other, a smile on both their faces, chests heaving. Uncle Olwen’s back pressed against Mr. Barnes’ chest and Mr. Barnes’ arms encircling Uncle Olwen.

Wirt stands in the shadows of the hallway and watches as their lips meet in a tender kiss, his uncle smiles against Mr. Barnes mouth and Wirt feels a panging in his chest. 

Wirt draws back from the door frame and slinks back up the stairs, acting as if he had never seen the kiss. 

He’s not sure why he says it. 

They’re sitting at dinner and Mr. Barnes is regaling them with a story of his secretary at work while Uncle Olwen reprehends him for his more bawdy languages while trying thinly to veil a smile. Wirt pokes idly at his meal watching his uncle from the corner of his eye. 

When his uncle rests a single dainty hand on Mr. Barnes’ wrist, Wirt wonders how he couldn’t have seen it before. 

He watches the way they grin at each other and feels his stomach churn. He doesn't know why it feels so wrong. 

Mr. Barnes’ story winds down and he has Wirt’s uncle in tears with how hard they’re laughing. 

“Wow Mr. Barnes.” Greg says from his seat beside Wirt. “Miss Clara sure is strong! And that’s a rock fact!” Which only causes his uncle and Mr. Barnes to break down further into laughter. 

When at last they have regained some semblance of composure Mr. Barnes turns his attention to Wirt. Still somewhat out of breath he asks:

“Wirt my boy! You're awfully quiet, is everything alright?” 

“Everything’s fine.” Wirt mutters into the palm of his hand as he pushes a piece of asparagus through the lines of gravy on his plate. He keeps his eyes down but can practically here Mr. Barnes’ brow furrowing. 

“Wirt.” His uncle’s voice is calm and welcoming. “Is there anything I can help with?” Wirt pokes at the asparagus and glances up at their concerned faces. 

Mr. Barnes’ head is tilted and his brows are furrowed, and his uncle leaned forward rapt with attention. 

He doesn’t know why he says it. 

He knows it’s mean from even before it came out of his mouth. 

But he says it anyway. 

“How long have you two been together?” It’s not really a question, it’s a remark, and it’s meant to sting. 

He knows it’s had it’s intended effect when he watches his uncle go stiff. Mr. Barnes and his uncle shares a glance, worry and concern sparkling in Mr. Barnes’ eyes, something like fear danced in his uncle’s eyes. 

“Gregory.” His uncle’s voice is thin and brittle, dripping with ice. “Why don’t you go outside and play?” 

“Aww.” Greg said from beside Wirt. “But I haven’t had seconds yet!” 

“Gregory.” Uncle Olwen’s voice hangs in the air like thin glass, ready to shatter. “I believe I heard a frog out there.” 

“Oh cool!” And Greg was bounding out of his chair and out of the house leaving Wirt alone. 

“Wirt.” His uncle’s attention is on him and Wirt tries not to fold under those silver eyes, he can see the fear in them. “That was an entirely inappropriate question. I expect as much from Gregory, but you should know better than that.” The words are like shards of ice. 

“No.” Mr. Barnes says finally and his voice sounds defeated. The hulking giant of a man leans forward and rests his arms on the table rubbing the bridge of his nose. “The boy has a right to know how long I’ve been seeing his uncle.” 

Mr. Barnes looks at him for the first time since Wirt asked the question. 

His eyes are more serious than Wirt has ever seen them. 

“Go ahead boy, ask anything you want, I will do my best to answer honestly.” 

“How long have you been dating?” Wirt asks despite the growing regret in his stomach begging him to apologize and leave this all behind them. 

Mr. Barnes hums as his fingers drum the table as if deep in thought. 

“A decade or so I suppose. I have rather unfortunately been out of the country for quite some time. I was already dating him when you were born, so perhaps 16 years?” Mr. Barnes collected answer seems to have given both Mr. Barnes and Uncle Olwen a chance to collect themselves.

Now when they look at him there is no fear or concern, only cool determination. 

“Why?” 

_Why did you do this to me?_

_Why are you together?_

_Why would you do this knowing the consequences?_

_Why does this seem so wrong?_

“Well you see Wirt.” Mr. Barnes encompassed Uncle Olwen’s hand in his own and brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of Uncle Olwen’s hand. “I love your uncle, and he loves me.” Uncle Olwen squeezes his hand.

“oh.” It sounds pitifully small. It’s not an apology like it should be. Wirt is pushing away from the table and leaving, he’s fleeing. 

They don’t stop him but his uncle’s voice hails him from the door frame. 

“Wirt.” He turns to face them, Mr. Barnes looks as friendly as ever if a little defeated but his uncle looks ferocious, still and unmoving with cold eyes. 

“I would appreciate if you did not tell anyone about this.” Wirt nods and retreats up to his room. 

He keeps his promise. 

For three weeks. 

He’s not sure why he says it. 

Greg is out playing with his frog and his step-father is repairing a pair of pants in the big chair in front of the fireplace. His mother is engrossed in a paperback novel. The repetitive punching of needle through fabric, the crackle of fire and turning of pages the only sound. 

He doesn't know why he feels the need to say it. 

“Uncle Olwen has a boyfriend.” His step-father’s needlework goes still but he does not look up. For a moment all is quiet but his step-father returns to his task. 

“Good. Olwen is a good man.” He says finally. “He deserves someone to treat him right.” 

Wirt’s mother has looks up from her book, her eyes peer at Wirt curiously over the pages. 

“Enoch is a sweet man, Wirt.” She turns back to her book and Wirt feels like a weight has lifted from his chest. 

The next time he is sent to stay with Uncle Olwen and Mr. Barnes their interactions are strained, Wirt tries to help as much as possible. 

He can’t make an apology come. 

Instead he helps wash dishes, asks Mr. Barnes about his day, asks about how to play the piano from his uncle, he helps clean and makes conversation, he plays with Greg and plays games with everyone. He makes every effort to show that he is sorry even if he cannot say it. 

Finally when it’s time for Wirt and Greg to head home his uncle comes to stand beside him, 

His hand falls on Wirt’s shoulder and Wirt looks up into his uncle’s face. 

His uncle nods and lets Wirt walk out to the cab where Mr. Barnes is laughing at Gregory’s antics while loading luggage into the back of the cab one handed. 

His uncle walks him to the cab and Mr. Barnes gives a chuckle as they load the children into the car. 

Wirt watches them in the rearview mirror, as Mr. Barnes places a giant hand on his uncle’s shoulder and how his uncle brings up a hand to grab Mr. Barnes’ tie and yank him into a kiss. 

And Wirt smiles.


End file.
